The Lost One

The sun was just beginning to rise. The soft white sand was cold on my feet, so cold that it made my feet hurt! I was standing alone, listening to the wave’s crash on the shore, about to cast out my line. The fish seem to be out more in the mornings, when the sun isn’t so bright. I cast the line, the heavy sinker making the line fly on forever. Splash! The sinker went straight to the bottom. Now to wait.

I am 15; I live alone in a small beach shack which I made from the driftwood I found on the beach. I live alone because I can’t stand other people, always judging and making fun of me, nobody ever understanding me. I ran away from my family when I was 13, and I’ve never gone back since, I don’t think they care though, I don’t think anybody even knew I was missing, they probably still don’t. I am about 5 foot 9 inches, with curly brown hair and deep blue eyes. I used to have feelings for people, until I realised they didn’t deserve them, they just made fun of me and hurt me.


I love nature. I love the peacefulness of the ocean, the way the moon tries to steal its water because she can’t have any of her own. The way nothing can stop it. I originally lived on a farm in the outback, it rarely rained and it was dry and dusty, but I loved it, I loved the freedom I had, the animals, the space. Until they forced me into an all-boys boarding school in a city. I now had no freedom; everything I loved was taken away from me. I was always told not to lose myself-well you know what? I did! I couldn’t live there for another year, day after day of loneliness and pain, so eventually I got up the courage to run away. It didn’t take much really, I knew it was for the best,

I haven’t seen another human being for at least two years now I think, the best two years of my life, just me and Mother Nature. Every day I watch the sun rise, and then head down to the shore to catch breakfast. I live on fish; sometimes I get lucky enough to catch a crab scuttling in the rock pool, or maybe an octopus... I’m very lucky when I catch an octopus… I’ve been getting nibbles on the line for a while now, but I haven’t hooked anything-maybe I should reel it in to check.

  My hook is bent beyond repair-but how? Oh no I haven’t got many hooks left, remember to make some out of the fish bones. I tie on a new steel hook, I have 2 left now. I put on a small fish I caught in the shallows, and cast it back out. Why am I telling you all this you ask? Well I have nobody else. If you don’t like it then stop reading. I used to cut myself a lot, all over my body, until I got taken to hospital because I had passed out on the bathroom floor due to blood loss. My parents weren’t worried they just didn’t want to have to look bad if I died.

The nights out here are long and lonely, yes... Sometimes I do wish for a real friend to talk too, a real someone to love... Someone that knows I exist. The only person that knows I exist out here is the Moon, the Sun, and Mother Nature..
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Back home I used to run off into the bush, for days, hiding from my father and the shame I brought upon my family. I had found myself a small clearing, where I would kindle a small fire, sit in front of it for hours and meditate. I figured that it was the only thing to make me stop… Thinking. I was very capable of inflicting pain on others, nothing could ever stop me. Whether it was physical or mental, I found a way to crack whoever had caused me pain… Nobody was safe, nobody ever will be, especially not if they had wronged me in any way possible.